Ink Sisters

Chapter Six

"Take us to the lake," Lorelle whispers into Leandra's hair.

"No," Leandra mumbles back.

"Eh?" Drakkor ask, raising his brows. "What's this one saying?" He points a crooked finger to Lorelle. "Maren." Maren sighs.

"Something about taking them to the lake."

"Ah." Drakkor drums his fingers on his chin. "So, tell me about this lake, pet." Lorelle raises her head shakily. She looks at Leandra who faces forward, her eyes shadowed. A curt nod signals her to continue.

"The Lake of Lost Memories," Lorelle replies. "It's how we get the legends. Maybe if we drink again, we'll be able to retain the location."

"No," Drakkor says dismissively. "that's not how it works."

"Well, it's worth a try," Aramis suggests.

"Stay out of this," Drakkor interrupts. He bends with cracking bones and lifts Syd once more into his arms. He sighs. "I was afraid it would need to come to this."

"What?" Lorelle asks fearfully.

"Come with me girls," Drakkor commands, holding his hand out.

"Yeah right!" Leandra shouts. "I'm not going anywhere else with you."

"But don't you want to know about your powers?" he asks sweetly. They stare up at him blankly, two sets of identical luminous eyes. The fear is most certainly there, revealed in their dilated pupils, but there is something else as well: a carnal craving that exists in us all, the need to understand where one comes from. Who they are.

"Don't you want to know what you can really do?"

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Each girl is placed in front of a blank piece of parchment, an inkpot and quill lie neatly to each side. They sit at two mismatched desks upstairs, forced there by rough hands. A low hum seems to emit from the parchment as the twins sit down. The sisters glance at each other in wonder.

"What's all this?" Leandra asks, her hand gesturing to the paper.

Drakkor steps around the desks, Syd tucked neatly under his arm. He smooths down his static hair before speaking. "Ink, the eighth Mage Order is quite a bit different from the other ones." At the ajar door, Teddy, Aramis, and Maren peek inside. They carefully shuffle into the dank space, wary eyes focused on the twins.

"Stop speaking in riddles!" Leandra spits. She can feel the anger flying out of her, unable to be oppressed any longer.

"You see," Drakkor strolls pleasantly behind them, "the order of Ink, is the only one that does not require anything tangible to feed upon in order to access its magic." He nodded toward the paper. "You feel the energy coming off of the paper, yet you do not seek out that energy for power."

"Drakkor," Aramis calls from the doorway, "I don't like this."

"Do you want to know how Ink Mages get their power?" Drakkor asks, ignoring Aramis's concern. He leans in close to the narrow space between the sisters.

"By brutally killing ancient men with white hair?" Leandra suggests sweetly. There is a muffled chortle from the doorway, the producer unknown.

"No," Drakkor says through clenched teeth. "Imagination."

"How?" Lorelle asks before Leandra can scoff. She shoots her sister a look that tells her to calm down. Leandra huffs loudly and leans back into her straight back chair.

"You know the legends, yes? The history involved with them?" Drakkor prods.

"What's your point?" Leandra asks in a bored voice.